Behold Chris Martin off-of Gwyneth Paltrow, walking amongst a crowd of fawning ladies and gennels in London’s glittering Italy, and bringing to mind the Baby Jesus in his own dolly time. And like the Baby Jesus in his own dolly time, those horny music fans just can’t get enough of a hairy chest and tight trou’ combo finished off with a Gok Wan,-so-seven-years-ago-it-hurts dolly chain. (NB. Gok Wan? Eugh.)
Some social commentators are suggesting Chris Martin looks rather owcha magowcha, perhaps even bummable. There’s certainly some tone-age around the arms and the chest looks like he may have, at some point, lain prost(r)ate with a large weight of some kind atop him – and some of us in this orifice are partial to a hair on a chest, it’s true – so, in conclusion, if we didn’t have to work particularly hard for it, yes we would. Prolly more than once. But only if Gwynnie watches, whilst proffering snacks. They’d probably consist of a dry piece of old Rye toast garnished with alfalfa, but at least we’d all have flat stomachs for the duration. Gwyneth’s considerate like that. We should know.